My husband and I had planned a home birth for our birth plan and worked with two midwives through my whole pregnancy. Every checkup was sweeter than the last when we visited our midwives. On any given checkup, you would walk in to find one sipping on hot tea while the other was knitting the most precious baby hats you ever did see. Their home was always welcoming and the smells are nostalgic to me still to this day. Their inviting presence made us feel seen and heard by them in an undeniable way. I knew that they were passionate about their work. The sparkle in their eyes was every bit as comforting as my husband stroking my hair or giving me a warm hug. We felt at home, and we were. As my pregnancy progressed, I was in and out of the hospital at twenty-four weeks as well as twenty-eight weeks. I experienced long and hard contractions as if labor was coming, but nothing ever happened beyond that. My baby was eager to make an entrance into the world and I kind of had a feeling too (mama instincts). We continued to see our midwives in hopes we could make it to the thirty-eight week mark, but that didn't happen.
My water broke on a cold and blustery Wednesday night, just shy of thirty-eight weeks. I panicked I thought I still had at least four weeks to go...to prepare, to nest. I didn't want to believe things were going to go differently than we had planned. When I heard the words, “I'm sorry my sweet Sophia, we need to go to the hospital” my heart dropped. Fear and anxiety gripped my muscles, and tears flooded my lap. This wasn't what we planned for, so now what would it look like?
During the days at the hospital leading up to my birth, you could find my midwives sleeping on the ground on a sleeping bag, spending every waking moment beside me, comforting me, encouraging me, and making my room feel like a home. They supported me, and walked me through the doctor's’ questions and concerns. They helped me see past my fear and expectations to understand that a healthy baby was the goal. Whatever your journey to your miracle might look like, whether that's adoption, foster care, cesarean, home birth, etc., know that you are right where you need to be. I like to think that the universe and a higher being orchestrates our life and journeys to motherhood in a truly unique way, teaching us many lessons if we will stop and truly feel the way we were meant to feel.
My direct blog is: cultivatingmotherhood.wordpress.com
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